Morning Glory
by Elise H. M
Summary: A beautiful love influences the bloom of an eternal miserable tree.Carlisle and Esme don't realize how genuine and powerful their adoration is for each other until the bloom is something that's inexcusable and undeniable.
1. Explicit Guile

_Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour! My exquisite viewers! This is just a drabble of Carlisle and Esme just being together. It may exceed to about 3 or 4 chapters, like Dimming Beauty. Please Enjoy what I have written and review, review, review! _

_**Explicit Guile**_

_**Prolouge…**_

oOo

The forest welcomed the morning.

It never pushed it away or tried to hide under it's branches. The tree roots never tried to trip it and the squirrels never threw nuts at it.

It was always treated as a significant individual.

To any naive patron, this unusual act would be spontaneous as well as unforgettable.

But instead of the wild kingdom pending on the new arrival with grimace, they stare in awe.

Awe at the hypnotizing beams of light as it gently coaxes the evergreens and lavender aromas to lift and sail on the groove winds, and circulate throughout the clearing.

The balmy morning breeze would coo the small buds awake; Mother Nature's beams, her soft delicate golden fingers lulling them the morning lullaby to coax their sensitive numbs awake.

Morning. She revives from the exorcism of nightfall, to the brim of the first genesis peak from the mountains. She has awoken to perform her blessing designated from her orthodox. Her guile eye has seeked far and wide of those that require the fancy of her liking.

"She's smitten with me."

Most would say when she would shine her beams from behind a matted puff of white silk. Her routine, gay and genuine, never lasted but was always golden when it precipitated throughout.

Poppies and roses blushing a tantalizingly sweet honey hue from the intimate gestures of the Slocum and Empress lotus, bounding their exotic stems to the natural darlings. Their foreign tongues serenading the desire they hold for the beauties, swooning their petals.

The mossy rocks growing a scruffy overcoat. Sunlight flusters after the morning aftershave, shining profusely.

Looking like emeralds shining in different shades, each green more vibrant and unique from the next.

But if you were to briefly brush another widowed limb of bark behind you, if you don't look over your shoulder as much. If you would sink your naked toes deeper into the soft mushy dirt with every brisk step towards somewhere, and at dusk, if you were not to look up at the North star to accompany you through the night for guidance, you would almost be there. If you would then if you please, with a brusque movement of your hand, move the sweep of an exotic lilac leafy garland fixated as a wall away from your face, you would finally find a weeping willow tree.

No one can really mark a trail to find this tree. Those who find it can never retrace their steps, the only way to find it, is to desire it, if you want to go to and fro.

The movements will come to you leisurely and effortlessly

Frustration and swears will get you nowhere but acorns giving you a concussion.

Money and scouters will get you nowhere but debt and time you will never get back.

Cheating and lies will get you nowhere but into a deep pit of guile ,stranded in the deep deceitful forest floors.

But compassion and love will lend you a bark.

It will lead you all on it's own.

Each step will be cleared for you, tree roots will quarrel and cower away, sharp branches and leaves will climb trees and poisonous threats will hold their tongues and scamper along under the heaviest rocks as a momentary hiding place.

The tree itself is a thing of beauty, nothing more, nothing less. But like a beautiful despondent girl, it weeps and weeps. "But if a thing that's holding so much beauty, why does it cry of grief?" Some may stop and ask. There really is no true answer, no one really has one but they end up having theories as to why.

Well there is the fact that maybe it does not want to be lionized but become empathized, not for it's unique beauty but for it's sacred sadness. It's a rooted contradiction, a guile contradiction if you will.

Being painfully divine.

Yes, that's it.

A Weeping Willow's grace comes from its sweeping, low branches that droop to create its familiar "falling" canopy.

Tree lovers are bewildered because of it's dramatic appearance and rounded, weeping shape.

You're awestruck now, the fields surrounding this haven has violets and lilacs and crystal white poppies.

You look down to see an oil lamp keeping an earth rock company. The flickering candle illuminates the evergreens.

Squinting your eyes and walking farther out the clearing, you see a pair of naked dangling feet.


	2. Willow Tree

_**Willow Tree**___

* * *

><p><em> o<strong>O<strong>o_

"Every leaf is different, not one is the same from another, like earthy snowflakes but more grief whether than wonderland."

"Then…." Carlisle turned away from his beloved and quickly snatched a random leaf from the identical bunch while still balancing on the strong limb of wood that withheld his weight.

"How would you describe this particular leaf from this willow tree since your descriptions hint at an artist's eye."

Esme's lips puckered and she squinted her eyes playfully. She snatched the trembling leaf from his fingertips and examined it closely. She glanced up at him and then averted her attention back to her subject.

"Well, Carlisle darling, since you're so eager to seek my artistic knowledge," she pushed the leaf to her chest and rolled her eyes, baffled at his incredulous command. "This particular leaf is light green above, grayish-green beneath."

He leaned towards her and stared deeply into her eyes, his lips just a few centimeters away from hers.

"It's as simple as that, isn't it?"

"Why yes, for this particular leaf in general view, it is. Would you have wanted a more intricate description? If so, you should have been more specific with your request, Doctor. It's as simple as that."

She moved closer and brushed her nose against his, giving him an Eskimo kiss, the playful glint still in her eye. Carlisle raised a hand to her face, slowly caressing the stray wisp of her caramel locks. He twirled it around his forefinger, his thumb stroking the silky strands.

"Well, pardon me then, I apologize for not thinking the way an artist would when saying a command."

"Mmmmmmmm." Her lips skimmed his in a leisurely and playful manner. All of a sudden Esme felt a breeze on her face

"Suppose this leaf then, with a matching immensely specific and detailed description. I mean if you please, of course?" Esme opened her eyes to a intricate leaf held in front of her face brushing against her nose. But beyond the leaf lay a challenging smirk of her childhood doctor. She leaned back exasperated from her doctors teasing ways.

"I suppose, Doctor." She lifted her hand to grab the leaf tenderly, and vaguely brushed her fingers with his. She ignored the electrical current that passed on to her.

"Humph?" she mumbled, her fingers contemplating on her shin. Her body took on a position that Carlisle always knew, 'The Thinker'.

"Cat got your tongue, love?" He smiled gingerly, his pearly white teeth shining brightly, with his dimples showing profoundly. Esme huffed. "No, Doctor, I'm thinking of the right words, is all!" she shook her head towards his shutting her eyes and gave out a huff. The leaf was examined properly: being held upside down, looked at from every angle, from different arm length positions and above her head. She held one finger up.

"Doctor, I have come to a conclusion." Carlisle hung his arms on the two nearby branches next to her knees.

"Please do tell dear." His eyes curious and avid.

Esme smiled genuinely and held it to his view, straightforward.

"For the most part lance-shaped, with a finely-toothed marling pale-colored on the under surface, and furnished with the two small leaf-like appendages, known as "stipules," at it's base. How's that?"

Carlisle leaned back, baffled.

"You are precisely just brilliant my darling. Only your enchanting mind dares to do the impossible."

Now it was Esme's turn to look baffled, "Oh no Doctor, it is so possible, just a look-"

"Several glances from all angles and distances actually."

"-and that's ALL I need, dear." she seethed

"Just stating the truth for the sake of justice is all."

Esme looked taken back; she leaned farther away from him on the stable branch she sat upon.

Her hand rested on her chest, referring to herself. "But would you have to speak justice to little ol' me all the time, seems to me as if she's trying to steal you away from me Doctor."

Carlisle let out a whole-hearted laugh. He grinned back at her, dimples showing.

"Only you my love, only you." Carlisle chuckled, stroking her forearms. The sun extricated her fingers in his hair lightening and spewing her golden tears through his fine locks. His skin sparkled, microscopic diamonds, making themselves known to the world. He looked like a translucent diamond that shimmered in the sun's glare. Esme traced her fingers up still his arms, rested on his shoulders and up to his neck.

"I better be, but I have my competition you see." He looked at her quizzingly; his perfect eyebrows knitted together, his mouth ajar, ready to say something.

"Don't cha' know?" she egged; her hands barred his shoulders and sunk down his chest to his corduroy buttons.

"When I do visit, to bring you lunch-" His grinned widened cockily, his dimples deep as a crater. Esme rolled her eyes smiling. "I see the way those women nurses look at you. Oh what's her name? Edward told me, oh yes, Margo was it not? Well she seems to fancy you the most out of all of them. I still have my doubts Carlisle."

As she confessed, she stared at her hands as they skimmed back up his chest and around his neck. She finally met his amused eyes.

"What do you have doubts about my dear?"

She breathed heavily, "I fear she's smitten with you all the time and I may sporadically slip. That she will attempt to seduce you, my childhood doctor, my Carlisle. And I will not be there to stop her." she finished, focusing on the baby curls her fingers stroked. All was silent.

"Well I can only think of one thing I can do with all of this feeling that I own. And when I do doubt, I must take action, I hope your not very fond of her." she breathed grimacing.

Carlisle chuckled taking her hands in his.

"Oh Esme, my darling Esme, my sweet darling Esme. No need for that, the doubt that grows on you does not phase our love. It may only crack upon our hearts shell, that is all."

"You're just so sure because you have degrees in all this." Esme threw her hands in the air exaggerating her meaning.

"Oh!"

Esme's derrière slipped from the supporting branch that held her, her body flailed towards the ground her caramel curls whipped around her face while the twigs tried to save her but they were just too sad too act fast, they only hung there weeping, while ripping her dress to tendrils. The sun's hands tried to catch her but she slipped right through her fingertips like a man in spirit trying to caress his widowed lover. Esme's hands reached out for anything but to only strip the willow tree of its pale, leafy tears. Carlisle was quick with reaction as he caught her left foot in his hand.

"Oh!" Esme recoiled again finally catching a strict branch to keep her body from swaying.

Stray branches kept her dress up, Esme scampered her hand to bunch her dress together to keep her pantyhose from view.

"Oh my!"

"I don't want you falling off trees again. Just like old times 'eh Esme?" he chuckled.

"Oh hush up, this is no time for your laughter." she said trying to fight the urge to laugh as well. Carlisles' hand was like grappling grips on his lover's foot, he heaved himself on a sturdy branch and began pulling gently. The tree branches buckled under the strain that pressured it.

"Oh!" The cracking sounds of breaking wood, echoed in Esme's ears. _This was going to be dreadful._

"Carlisle we shouldn-Oh!" the last jerk of Carlisle's hand to her foot, sent the willows arms to snap. The willow's limbs struggled to lift them above ground, the burden was too much. The wind howled, the willow tree's leaves drooped almost to the ground, the pain was monstrous, the wind howled again. The leaves shook and swayed. Leaving Carlisle and Esme to fend for themselves. Esme eyesight was blurred from the fast whipping motions of wisps of her hair against her face. The thick branch that went along with her was held to her chest for dear life.

'_The storms over head clouded the sky, thunder boomed and lightening cackled. Her eyes were seeing everything like a bad prescription for glasses. Everything was dim and vague. Her hair whipped viciously around her face as Medusa's snakes would. She held on to the wet bark of a tree, she felt herself smiling and laughing.'_

Carlisle and his hands outreached were the only things she saw before the silk ivory picnic blanket embraced her back. "Oh goodness!" Esme pushed herself up to sit on her behind. She saw something when she fell. _Could it be?_ Like whiplash, a searing pain encased her leg, Esme looked down and saw where it was generating from. Her once broken leg seared in pain. Excruciating was the least to describe it.

'_The tree buckled under her, as the lightning struck it's only tall place. Esme only looked for a moment. The light was fast and quick, it sent her eyes seeing colors. She was blinded. Her hands rubbed her sore eyes and like magic she was flying. Her arms flailed as she tried to catch any source of redemption. Her leg found it and didn't let go. The wood caught and twisted her soft tissue until it resembled somewhat of a pretzel. Esme looked up from where she was hanging. She reached to extricate her leg but the pain burned her entire body. She screamed from her place, the wind blew harder, swinging her body even more. She screamed and wailed. Another flash of lightening hit her tree again. The deep colors gave her illusions of a peacock. It was blurred and the colors meshed together. She flew again to the hard ground withering in agony. She wailed and hiccuped as her body was beginning to shut down from the pain.'_

Esme looked at her feeble leg and started whimpering. The pain was coming like profuse rainfall during a drought. Her body was hydrated, she was going to drown in her own misery. Her hands shook violently as they coaxed her leg. Rubbing soft circles on her skin. She held her limb and sobbed, she told her brain to not cry but her eyes didn't get the message. Venom sprung from her ducts, and stayed there. She had the moisture in her eyes, she could see everything blurry and shiny. But they refused to fall. "Esme!" The sound of her childhood doctor eased her pain for a moment. She dry sobbed as she felt his warm hands on her cheek.

"Esme! I must apologize for dropping you, I didn't mean to. How are you feeling? What hurts? Tell me Esme and I will make it all better." His words rung within her. Esme took his hand and guided it to her bum leg. He only traced the skin the skin that she pointed to and she screamed. Carlisle rushed in his arms around her, "Esme please, did you hit it?" she shook her head. "I j-just fell and I saw something. Then when I-I fell again it hurt even more." Carlisle looked puzzled, "What do you mean you fell again? I'm not following."

_How can Carlisle not understand her?_

"I've seen it Carlisle, I saw when I fell, I fell twice, I s-saw it! I was there! Don't you understand what I'm saying! I need your help, Carlisle it hurts so bad! Fix it! Fix me again!"

"You've seen it?"

"Yes, I was there!"

Carlisle inhaled deeply and stood arms length away from her frail body, his hands caressed her shaking shoulders still. "Esme I think your reliving a memory. Your memory wants to be resurfaced. When you fell, your mind drew you back to when you fell the same exact way when you were human. Now your going to feel what you felt that day."

"Carlisle it hurts, what am I to do?" she dry sobbed. Carlisle's heart was internally bleeding, he could do nothing. Her leg looked fine, smooth and granite except for the small crooked bump that she still kept from her teen years from the fall.. Nothing seemed broken or out of place, he was in a state of turmoil, for the first time he could not heal Esme as he did decades back. He couldn't let her suffer but what could he do?

Pale fingers stroked the small bump and a voice whispered promises of indulgence and relief to her long-term weeping. He kissed her ear and her face as she blubbered like a toddler. They rocked back and forth together, sobs racked her body, she shook violently. Uncomprehendable words came out as slurs and unfinished sentences. Carlisle just listened and supported her unintelligible rambling. "Do what you did." Esme stammered laying a hand on her crooked bump.

"Esme I don-"

"-Carlisle please." her eyes said it all. She needed his help and he denied her. The traditional and personal vows they spoke readied him for now:

_ ~ ~o**O**o~ ~_

_He was actually nervous, really he was. His fingers felt as if they were nervous as well, latching and unlatching themselves. He knew the music would be starting in any moment now. _ _ The genuine smile tugging at the sides of her lips_ _ as her long, lucid white veil would chase the wind behind them from the very crown of her caramel locks. Her eyes glinted with mischief as the little minx's hand would so happen to massage his thigh and what that would lead to. Her small curvy body withering in pleasure beneath him. Her perky rosy nipples pressing against his chest. Her breathy moans and sweet scent shuddering his nerves with her lips against his neck. "Carlisle." she would groan in his ear. Her nails digging in to his shoulders, her heels pressing into his buttocks urging him to go deeper. Just those very thoughts just sent..._

_"Psssst." Carlisle fantasy was disrupted from a rather annoyed Edward. His lips were pressed into a hard line, his eyes dark with angst and annoyance. His hands extricated themselves from in front of him. "Calm down." he mouthed, his hands motioned it as well. "Your fantasies and anxiety are giving my brain whiplash." he whispered through his charming smile towards the guests. Carlisle ducked his head in embarrassment and whispered an apology to his poor innocent son. Springing his lust-filled and sinful thoughts of his Esme to bathe in his teenage son's mind just made him put a filter on his very own mind. He must be considerate of his son's ability. _

_So instead of focusing on his lust, he focused on the serenest of this moment. __What a wonderful day it was for an outdoor wedding: warm, but not terribly so. The early May sun peeked out occasionally. A pleasant breeze from the north rustled in the surrounding shrubs, cooling the guests and family members as they took their seats on either side of the walk leading to the gazebo. Sweet strains of classical music drifted through the crowd. He couldn't believe it; Carlisle's beautiful wife-to -be Esme and__ himself were finally getting married. What a memorable wedding it was going to be. The playground off to his right was empty, although a few neighborhood children standing around the rows of chairs eyed it with a desire to play. Obviously, they would much rather be jumping and climbing, instead of being fussed over by their mothers and aunts, having their ties and hair bows adjusted. Garlands of pristine lilacs and roses fluttered around the railing and banisters, a festive mixture of cream, a blossom charred pink, and white sent an aura of springtime and freesia fun throughout the aisles of cream fabricated chairs. _

_The hundreds and hundreds of flowers made him remember Esme's reason as to exactly why they needed so many: "__Visual impact darling, it's all about flowers. When impressions matter, flowers are a must. __Visual impact uses flowers for dramatic and emotional effect to create visually stunning displays inspired by nature's beauty. Visual impact, such as flowers, are seen not only as decorations, but as all-out floral performances. Each event, from weddings to corporate parties to team building classes, is unique, and designed using all five senses to capture the desired magic and mood._" _That shut him up as he signed thousands of dollars check to the florist. _

_To the far-away left of him, were rows of cars glittering in the sun. Their classic white 1964 Ford Galaxie Ragtop shined brighter amongst the others. The white and cream streamers billowed nicely with the wind; curling in and out from eachother while the shiny tin cans splayed themselves on the ground waiting while still attached to the cars bumper as well, to be rumbled and tampered from the sweet gravel they would soon say their goodbyes to. Above that was a sign"Just Married." in big bold letters adorned the sterling bumper as well. He and his marvelous bride would soon be cruising down the gravel road, rice soaring around their bodies, finally making it craved in stone. Mr. and ...Carlisle and Esme Cullen._

_His mind wandered to his anxiety again as he tried to diminish it's power over him. He knew pianist was going to start any moment now. He could hear it. The erratic beating of the mans heart. The fumbling of the attire that clothed his bottom settling on the bench. The swipe of his handkerchief absorbing the perspiration from his receding hair line. The fidgeting of the music note papers being ordered. The last sigh of dexterity and then the music began from the dawning pipes of the ancient organ. Carlisle then took a breath of his own._

_His last thoughts as a single man, widowed from a woman lingered within him:_

_Love endures. Their love story played out across the oceans, across the mountains and across half a decade before they finally got their chance to say 'I do'. During this year, they endured exorbitant phone bills, tens-of-thousands of miles traveled, and every conceivable form of mail miscommunication. They've endured incompatible time zones, lightning fast weekend visits and bad cell reception. What endured was an appreciation for silent conversations, carpooling and unpacking into dresser drawers… A love so unique it could only be theirs. Their love story has brought them to this moment – their wedding. Their passion captured thier journey across this day and provided them with memories that reflect why their love does endure._

_ Her quiet elegance and his devotion uplifted everyone around her. __She walked down the aisle __with a smile as pure as honey as a__ gust of wind blew as smooth as silk. __A glimmer of hope shined through the clouds. __A ray of light breathed through the blossom tree.__Clad with lovely white caressing her curvy waist and pouty breast Carlisle's assumed phantom heart was thought to beat momentarily from her beauty. __A look of a saintly figure he would've thought. __A voice of an angel he would soon hear. __A silent whisper of the two syllables that would begin their scared beginning. __She's walked down the aisle, moving closer to him, he could feel the grin on his lips and Edwards smirk from beside him. __With eyes as deep as the sea she marveled through her translucent veil staring at her husband to be. __A song of the morning birds rang throughout the trees just for the occasion adding to the organs low bellowing tune. __A divine vision she was. __A picture of paradise she always has been. __She walked down the aisle, closer to him now, her banquet looking as rosy as her cheeks. __Like clouds floating in the sky. __Like an angel ascending from heaven she was, since the they met in her parlor couch. __Like a drop of rain in the desert, __like a promise never broken. __Just a foot away from his touch, her sweet smile growing wider. _

_If she asked him a question. __If he had no words to answer. __A look was all he needed for her to understand. And time stood still... Carlisle thought if his father and what he would say as he were with him instead of Edward when he got dressed earlier._  
><em>"Today dear Son, as you wait down the aisle<em>  
><em> You'll see all the faces wearing a a genuine grins.<em>  
><em> But as we remember those young tender years<em>  
><em> Our smiles will conceal a few hidden liquid distress.<em>  
><em> They're not tears of sorrow, but tears full of joy<em>  
><em> As we're both thinking back to when our dear little son. <em>  
><em> And now you have grown up and made us so proud<em>  
><em> As you smile for the camera and the rest of your guests.<em>  
><em> Remember dear Carlisle as you take your new wife<em>  
><em> You're still very much a part of us as well still.<em>  
><em> We're gaining a daughter, not losing a son, <em>_you're new lives as husband and wife have begun today and will start over day after day._  
><em> So be blissfully happy and enjoy your 'Big Day'<em>  
><em> Have a wonderful marriage with a rose strewn son"<em>

_Before another thought can cross his mind, she stood in front of, grinning wildly, her hands wrapped with his own. a stable support system for his trembling ones. the priest smiled genuinely, his wrinkles long forgotten and gray hair hidden under their love. It made him seem 20 years old again. He began their vows and soon enough their words were beginning to mean a whole lot more than a promise._

_"I Carlisle, take you Esme, to be my lovely, lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish 'till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness." He slipped the sterling diamond ring on her delicate finger and stared into her eyes._

_" Esme, as we stand before both God and man, making public our commitment to one another, I wish to make it known that I recognize first of all God's authority over my life which is exercised from His loving heart. He has chosen me to be one of his own, and He is now my life. I recognize also that He has blessed me and entrusted to me your life as a free gift that I have not earned. In recognition of these things, Esme I purpose to love you with His love, to provide for your needs through His enablement, and to lead you as He leads me, as long as He give us life together, regardless of the circumstances. As Psalm 34:3 expressed my heart when I asked you to marry me, so it expresses my heart now: "O magnify the Lord with me and let us exalt His name together."_

_Through her veil, Esme's unhushed tears stood frozen in her ducts, not daring to fall. His words only made her overwhelmed with love and happiness. He knew words that fell from her soft rosy mouth urged him to wrap her in his arms and shout "Hallelujah!" to his own Father._

_"I Esme, take you Carlisle, to be my marvelous lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish 'till death do us part. And here too, I pledge you my faithfulness."_

_Her small hand slipped his golden band on his finger. Her promise still lingered in the metal. Carlisle thought the flimsy piece of gold would snap for the promise seemed to great to symbolize. _

_ "On this special day, Carlisle, I am reminded of the verse James l:17 which says, "Every good thing bestowed and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of Lights with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow." With a gift such as you, I know that many new responsibilities face me. In I Corinthians, it explains "It is required of a steward to be found trustworthy." I cannot do this on my own strength, Carlisle, but by God's grace and power working within me I desire to be trustworthy as your wife by following your leading submissively, even as unto Christ, loving and serving you in all circumstances as long as He give me life on this earth." _

_He couldn't have smiled any wider, as the veil flew behind her head. Her lips pulled at the sides to form the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He leaned down, focusing acutely on those rosy lips, she puckered purposely and leaned in as well. His lips lingered on hers longer than necessary and was rudely interrupted by laughter and a throat clearing of the famous best man._

_ ~ ~o**O**o~ ~_

Carlisle left her side and kneeled down to her feet. His fingers probed, poked massaged and twisted her "injury", getting immediate feedback from her. The whimpers, sniffles and wailing only hurt him. He apologized profusely after each sound she made. With a final twist of her shin, Carlisle lightly patted it. "All done, I'll let it set now." The ivory silk stood no chance against his supernatural strength. It made her wrap look elegant and sophisticated. "Thank you doctor, I never had a chance to thank you in that time, but now I'm thankful that your sticking around" Her voice rang with clarity and sincerity as she stroked her new bandage, she twisted her fingers under the big loops of the silk bow.

"Now I can thank you properly," she stroked his leg suggestively. Carlisle raised a golden fine eyebrow.

_ o**O**o_

**_Bonjour again my lovely viewers! I very much appreciate the 2 reviews I got but I am not happy about it. It's kind of bittersweet actually. I love those who reviewed but ALL I need are 5 per chapter so all you all have to do is review and the next chapter will be up as soon as it hits 10. Remember I have a poll on my profile regarding the sequel to Dimming Beauty so make sure you check that out and thank you for adding me to alerts, I really appreciate that. Tell me what you all think because I really fell in love with his story and dearly with this !_**


	3. Naïve Sincerity

**_Chapter 3:_**

**_Naïve Sincerity_**

* * *

><p>Esme looked up to see Carlisle's strong, defined, sparkly jaw turn towards the side, as if looking at something.<p>

"Do you know what the three most beautiful things in the world are?" he whispered suddenly. Esme thought he was talking to himself, but the silence ordered her to answer.

"Hmm-hmm." Esme replied, her eyes straining to open to look at his face. She really did not know, so being truthful seemed like a good way to go. She didn't think him, unclothed would count as one.

"A woman's body. A newborn when it first opens its eyes, and a rose." he murmured, then he sighed.

Carlisle's pale long fingers tenderly caressed the elongated rose's stem. Esme watched as he picked at the thorns, from the stem of the cream and apricot rose, only slightly pulling at a couple and squishing them between his forefinger and thumb. Esme watched his gifted hands pick and squish until there were only three thorns left. She wondered why he would leave just three when the rest were small spots that contrasted darkly with the ivory quilt that they were entangled with.

"Why only leave three when the rest are gone?" she asked wringing her eyebrows together. It seemed odd to her but Carlisle always had an answer.

He still marveled at the ominous flower, "Each is a representation of the three most beautiful things in the world," his finger stroked the first thorn that was uppermost towards the top where the buds lay.

"A woman's body," his finger trailed down to another, it was very small, like a premature thorn,

"A newborn when it first opens it's eyes," His finger skimmed lower towards the edge of the stem to see a prominent thorn.

"And a rose. Each have a bittersweet aftermath. A woman's body can be tortured, battered, bruised and lifeless."

Carlisle squished the thorn against the stem, the small numb pointless. "A newborn's heart can stop beating in a matter of seconds, days, weeks, if you're not careful. " He squished the other and moved down to the last one, "A rose without nourishment can wither, perish and cower in it's vase." He squished the last one and stroked the dark numbs thoughtfully. Esme kept silent, not daring to break his thoughts. "Each have a beginning, but unfairly may come to an end."

"But not everything has to perish, dear. A woman can heal and break free, a newborn can have a blessing to go on, a rose can be nourished and taken care of. Not everything can perish, they may dwindle but not perish. Like memories, they may dwindle from your mind but, you still lived through them." Esme smiled at her husband, and stroked his cheek, "Not everything." she grasped the rose from his hand and laid her back against his chest.

"Evelyn. This rose is a goddess. She is the cultivar responsible for switching my rose obsession from Hybrid Teas to English Roses." Esme beamed taking the long and narrow stem, stroking it.

"She?" Carlisle plagued, he had never utterly heard anyone refer to a rose as a being in his whole three centuries.

Esme looked up at his locked jaw, and kissed it tenderly, It went rigid and relaxed immediately under her solemn touch. "Yes she, thank you."

"One of the things that is so spectacular about Evelyn's blossoms is the clarity of the apricot/pink color. Although the color will bleach out in hot summer sun, the colors are completely unmuddled by any kind of lilac or mauve tonality. When at their best, the large blooms literally shine from across the garden. Speaking of size the flowers are very large in comparison to the shrub. This makes her stand out and in this respect she really does remind me of some of the highly developed Tea-Noisettes."

"Oh does she? From the highest range of solitary."

"Mmmhmm."

"The perfect flower form doesn't hurt either. Form is somewhat variable but is always beautiful. It can be either deeply cupped or quartered around a button eye. All too often it is a combination of both, starting out globular then slowly opening into the quartered formation."

"The rare garden flower is exquisite in so many ways, such as its aroma. Smell."

She held the rose to Carlisle nose, he smiled and inhaled the divine perfume, his smile was even wider.

"Enticing my love." she turned back around and stroked the long stem as her fingers coaxed the soft petals. She frenzied on her own artistic indulgence. Carlisle chuckled digging his nose in her silky caramel hair.

"As for the fragrance it is simply out of this world, Carlisle! Not so much for its strength although it is fairly strong, but instead for the quality and complexity of the perfume. This rose has numerous scents in her fragrance mix, some of which I'm at a loss to identify."

Carlisle looked down towards her, "An artist can always describe something no matter how delirious it may sound or how troubling the description can be."

"Oh, you just want me to have a frog in my throat don't you?" Esme pursed her lips as her eyes narrowed.

Carlisle shrugged as he smiled cockily. "Ribbit! Ribbit!' he chided grinning.

"Well I will always stand victorious Carlisle and you know that." she pointed out matter-o-factly.

"Are you stalling dear? Ribbit! Ribbit!"

"Oh stop that!" she mused, agitation dripped from her voice.

"Ribbit! Ribbit!" Esme huffed and stuck her nose up into the air.

"But I shall try."

'Ribb-"

"-At the top there is a prominent fruity top note that smells exactly like ripe peaches. After that there is a very fresh Tea rose note followed by a subtle spicy finish that I believe is a light mix of myrrh and something else that eludes me as well."

"As well as I." he murmured nuzzling her neck. Esme giggled, as she swept her left hand fingers through his fine blonde hair.

"Growth habit was nice too. When grown in the correct spot she was very vigorous throwing out long canes that gracefully arch. Shrubs of Evelyn grew as specimen plants where they are allowed to reach their full size are simply breathtaking. I once remember a cover of a garden magazine where this rose took center stage beside a colonial potting shed. My mother took me to the one-time flower show in Ohio when she was attempting a garden next to the corn beds."

"I scarcely remember when my mother took that very plant home with miniature others. I remember her forcing me to sit in the back of the pick up truck to hold every single plant. I complained the whole time about the sweltering heat and the intoxicating smell giving me a headache. But when we finally brought it home of course this rose wasn't without her issues. Simply put she could be bit of a fuss a diva. This was not necessarily a bad thing. Diva roses were just like their human counterparts. Sure they were demanding, but when coddled and pampered they will put on a performance that outshined every other rose in the garden. In Evelyn's case her large sumptuous flowers appeared all over a graceful bush from spring 'till frost while spritzing doting admirers with her dreamy fragrance."

"Now I know what they have passed on to you, their green thumb. Gardening and planting; that's all you did every time we came some place new."

"Well everything mustn't look like a pigsty! I make the weeds look like cherished fields." she stammered, defending herself.

"Oh that you do." Carlisle spoke rolling his eyes. That green thumb of hers always led her to the outside and away from him, but one thing he always loved, was cleaning her up once she came inside trampled in mud and fertilizer.

"My grandmother and mother grew this rose to perfection for years in zone coastal Ohio. She would always go the extra mile and would lightly prune to shape several times during the growing season. She never hard pruned, only used organic fertilizers and sprayed once every two weeks with a fungicide. The result was a dense shapely bush with big flowers all over the surface. It was beautiful."

"But sadly the last year I was with my mother before my parents shipped me off to go live with Charles, I shove pruned my mother's only Evelyn from my mom's formal rose garden. My mother's age and my grandmother's mental illness made it impossible for them to properly care for Evelyn. The poor thing was mostly dead anyway. Breaks my heart to talk about it."

Esme touched the flower in her hands as if it was made of glass.

"So that's why you abandon the other plants to take care of the most notorious one in the bunch." Carlisle said chuckling. Esme gasped incredulously.

"No I do not! I give every single plant equal attention, it's just even though my mother or grandmother are not here to see it physically. I can show them that I've replaced her flower and I take good care of it, just as she did. It's kind of like an 'I'm sorry' notion. They can see us from where ever they are, I just know, I can feel them smiling at me as I tend to it every week. And besides, the thing about Evelyn is she could be terribly fussy about placement, pruning, soil and spraying."

" She would have needed some protection from western sun or else her pastel hued flowers would have bleach out to white, yet she isn't known for her shade tolerance. This rose wants, no demands, the sweetest spot in my garden; eastern exposure without any competing shrubs or trees. She also frowned on hard pruning. Cut this rose back too severely and she'll pout by not growing. In fact, vigor is downright temperamental; either gangbusters or not at all. She also wanted black loamy soil that is rich yet drains perfectly I did say she was a fuss didn't I?"

Carlisle wrapped his arms around her and his lips were at her ear, laying butterfly kisses down her neck and back to the tip of her ear again. Esme giggled pushing from his lock hard hold.

While he savaged her neck, Esme's eyes were giddy with excitement. Esme's breathing was avid but only got haggard as she felt his hand lock both of her own and the other on her stomach, he knew every ticklish spot on her body. Damn it all to hell.

"I have not finished Carlisle, unhand me at once or you will suffer the consequences! Carlisle!"

She tried to shout in between fitful breaths of laughter. He only continued, straddling her now as she lay on the floor withering in laughter.

"Carlisle, p-please! Ahhh, Carlisle! Y-you will s-suffer the conseq-quences dramatically ah!" Her hands pushed his, trying to coax his prying fingers from herself.

"I will won't I?" he said smiling. She peered at him from her position, looking at him with venom pooled in her eyes. She could vaguely see him, his blonde hair was sun-kissed, as his body seemed translucent with diamonds etched on him. Like a sparkling ghost.

"Y-yes you will, you savage!" she breathed trying to make her voice sound menacing. But she miserably failed from the bitter-sweet sensation that his hands brought up and fore-most.

"You promise?" he challenged seductively.

"Oh yes you uncivilized man!" He eyed her and smiled locking her hands on each side of her head. Such joy he got from her role-playing, he was avid for what was to come for his punishment.

The willow tree stopped weeping and noticed the chiming of bells of church bells in the air and perked up a bit. The duet was harmonious and filled them with the joy. They stopped billowing and watched the scene that played before them. It's positive and care-free demeanor splashed the dry roots, reviving them from the dark plague of grief. The laughter and giggles ensured hope instead of sorrow for them to soak up and razed their languish away.

His long pale fingers connected with hers, one by one. The look they gave each other become more intense.

"I promise…." she whispered against his lips, raising her face farther to his. The kisses they shared never tasted the same.

It always tasted differently, somehow. Some days it would taste like whip cream, others warm apple pie, strawberries, but today it was a chocolate marshmallow delight. Their kisses soon came feverish as they hurried to disrobe each other. Her long pallid legs wrapped around his torso, as he placed heated open-mouth kisses down her shoulders and on her chest.

"You're so delicious…..decedent my love…..so good, like the sweetest dessert I spied on in all of my centuries of being around the world. You are my most prized and sought after golden apple." He murmured in between kisses. Esme groaned and entangled her hands in his fine golden hair.

"All for you, darling." she whispered in his ear.

As their bodies moved as one, the sunlight shined her spotlight on the beautiful lovers. They seemed like a colossal bed of diamonds if you were to look from the opening of the clearing. You would feel the adoration in the air. The scent would be indescribable, undescriptable, unintelligible. Their love was never an act. Always in sync but never rehearsed. They were the stars of the show, everyone wanted an encore, but performers always needed time to heal from the roses that were thrown. Every rose has its thorn. Every thorn leaves a pierce. And every pierce needs to heal. Standing ovations from the outside world will send them into hiding as of those who lived through the Holocaust.

Some would sneak and catch them in the midst of their healing time while other will just purposely avoid the locked door for they new what lay ahead of it.

Romeo and Juliet would weep from their love and poison their own souls,

Mona Lisa would play a twinge of a smile on the corners of her lips.

In the Grant Wood American Gothic, they would have both embraced each other.

In the Wandering Jew, the corpses would rise and assured the wandering Jew of safety.

The Girl With The Pearl Earring may find her other by the leg of the stool she sat upon, she would have laughed incredulously at her own inane foolishness.

Esme's Evelyn had it's own root from her own personal garden of Eden and has started her second year now. She had been slow to build up stature but Esme didn't care, she loved this rose for several reasons, not all of them practical. Incontingent love was Esme's specialty, everyone always had a murmur of that unacquainted love of hers. She always thought everyone deserved that no matter if they are alive or inanimate either way. She loved her flowers even though they couldn't say so themselves. Actions speak louder than words. They grow for her, they bloomed for her, they sent heavenly aromas to circulate around the garden, just for her.

"One of the happiest moments in MY life was when I was a young woman of about 16. I had just picked the first bloom off of the new Evelyn rose in my mother's garden."

Esme spooned around for the flower up until spotting it laying across the Emily Dickinson poetry book. She snatched it up quickly and assumed her self between Carlisle's sprawled limp legs. She held up the perfectly shaped quartered bloom to the early morning light and marveled at how the sun's rays suffused all through the flower illuminated it from within.

Then she smelled the rose.

"I fell completely, totally, passionately, forever-and-ever in love with Evelyn."

Carlisle wrapped his arms around her torso, "And that is only a centimeter of words to describe how in love I am with you darling I can never sum you up in words, how I fell in love, I have no clue."

Esme suddenly pushed herself off of Carlisle to kneel in front of his opened legs. Her knees were at the balls of his feet, as she held the ivory, silk blanket loosely at her chest, while her underarms supported it. The rose lay limply in her hand as Carlisle quickly doubled over to the near picnic basket and took out another identical silk blanket and it was splayed lazily across his waist, his chest bare and muscular. Esme only stared and abruptly put her hands in the air.

"But that's just it Carlisle! Love can never be defined, it can never be questioned, it can never be a treatment when your lovesick, there is no cure. Love is the feeling of being whole because of the mere existence of the other.

It's the yearning for a new day because you know you will spend it with the other person.

It's an emotional attachment to someone or something almost as if to keep you alive.

It's the bearer of the continuous appearance of a smile on your face without you even realizing it.

It's the sudden adrenalin rush you feel at the mere thought of the other." Esme drew closer to Carlisle now, he stared in awe as she twisted his golden cross between her fingers, the metal chain twisting with pleasure by her touch. Carlisle only stared at her while she fumbled and her voice got lower.

"Love is all or nothing... When you love you do stupid things.. " Esme looked up at him and smiled, quickly looking back down when he mimicked her.

"When you love you accept everything about that person. It's not just some admiration or something. For me its the highest thing you could give to someone. Love is giving and accepting everything and anything. There is no handbook to it, no one and the naïve don't know what to avoid and why to be careful of who you love. And I just don't just drop those words.. Its more than what you think, and what I even may think. Being clueless is just a part of it, It's unknown Carlisle and that's the beauty of it, don't you see?" she stopped twisting the lanky metal and looked into his eyes.

"Yes I see what your implying. It makes a lot of sense but the thought of love does not."

"Exactly!" Esme exclaimed taking his face in her hands and kissing the coldness from his body.

"Love. Love. Love" He murmured against her lips. Carlisle broke the kiss with a quirked expression.

"Is the sweetest thing," Esme sang sweetly nuzzling his nose.

"Love," Carlisle pitched in harmony with her angelic voice.

"Never comes just when you think it will," she smiled pulling him closer.

"Love,"

"Is the way I feel for you." Esme sang almost like cooing a lullaby to a child.

"We're lovers, we're lovers, we're lovers, just me and you." he ended grinning.

"That is not the way the song goes silly," she bantered, playfully giving him a slap on the shoulder

"I like to improvise, the original did not suffice." he defended earnestly. The infatuation he had with her since the doctor visit that changed his life still stuck with him. Sometimes he would just stare at her when she would be cooking, reading, sketching or painting, he would think how in the hell did he find her. Her soft lips molded to his neck. The golden chain that wrung from his neck wrung from her tongue as well. The metal clasps slinked with her tongue, the metal grazed her fangs, the tight feeling in her lower stomach began to simmer.

The sweet taste of his skin, pooled venom down her core. Her hand grasped the side of his neck, digging her nails in his granite skin. Carlisle's growls clawed out f his chest.. The thin ivory sheet was a his manhood from a small opening between the sheets in her young hand, lightly stroking the tip slightly. Carlisle hissed of pleasure. "Oh you little minx!" Carlisle growled pulling her on top of his lap.

"Grrr." Esme purred, her neck seeking the sultry warmth of his tongue on her skin. Esme's hips guided with his as the sheet between them only infuriated their lust.

"Esme your exquisite." Carlisle murmured, sweeping the ivory sheet from her bodice. It sank down her to her waist like a sheer waterfall.

His eyes fed on her disrobed form. Kisses got more heated between them. Her tongue teased his, his hands massaged her. Esme's sucked on his bottom lip, savoring the goodness as her hips rolled on his wildly.

"I like your version better you know, but I have my own version as well you see. And the only way for you to hear it is if you hit the right note within me." Esme's tongue sucked on his earlobe.

"Mmmmmm." he moaned bringing her down with him.

**_oOo_**

"What is your favorite flower?" she asked harmlessly, stroking the small blond hairs that graced his chest.

"Not very much a flower, but a tree is what comes to my liking." She cocked her head.

"A tree? Well then which one?" she asked innocently from under her dark long lashes that framed her bright smoldering eyes. In all of Carlisle's years he has grown to embrace Mother Nature, not dislike it. He has came across many different trees, from pedigree to full bred, or half bred. Each and everyone with and understanding and a story, but one of his favorites always outdid the rest.

"A Weeping Willow Tree." he said

"As the one we sit upon to this moment."

"I'm afraid so." he countered, linking their fingers together. He kissed the hollow of her ear softly.

"But why?" she pried curiously, squeezing his hand. Carlisle's breath was warm against her ear, "Because of my understanding of its story."

"And what is it's story if you mind telling me." she said rubbing the top of her head under his chin.

"It's a poem actually." he confessed humbly.

"Well let's hear it then." Esme encouraged him, rubbing her thumb absentmindedly across the gap between his thumb and pointer finger.

Carlisle sighed, cleared his throat and started:

"The tree stood tall and proud, as it offered the woman its shade. It tried so hard to protect her. For, it felt she was afraid. She leaned against its trunk. Her sobs rustled through the leaves. Sighing lightly like the breeze; echo's of a heart that grieves. The tears ran like a river and watered deep the roots,bringing forth the blossoms that would later bear the fruits. The tree stood tall and proud as the soldiers checked it out. "I think this one will do. Cut it down," he heard them shout. They cut and carved upon that tree and stripped it of blossom and bark. Then, they made a rugged cross. That's the day the world turned dark as Jesus hung upon that tree, he was the last fruit it would bear. For, Jesus was the fruit of God. He was long suffering and full of care. The tree no longer stood proud, as the blood of the Lamb did stain. It bent with the weight of its shame And it wanted to weep from the pain. Jesus whispered to the tree, "From this day forth shall you cry." Thus grew the weeping willow that had watched the Savior die." he finished stroking the soft skin of her arm.

"That's beautiful Carlisle, where did you learn it from?" Esme's fingers twisted the chain he bared, the cross happily caressed by her finger tips.

"On my travels to France, I met a philosopher that loved nature. We would exchange travel experiences and probe each other for lost information. He was an admirer of nature, always kissing the dirt our God had made, always looking at he bright side even though he never had happy nights alone in the central park. "Oh my that's horrible." Esme cut in hugging his chest even more. Carlisle's hand smoothed her back, lightly tracing her spinal chord.

"He was one of my close friends that have passed years ago. When he told me this, I swore to him I would never forget it. Now every time I see a willow tree, I think of him and then to the poem."

"Carlisle, I don't know what to say." Truthfully, Esme knew exactly what to say. "You are a very loyal, compassionate, and caring being Carlisle." Esme whispered. Kissing his chest. She didn't really know how lucky she was up to that very moment. Some day's she would sit on the edge of the large stained glass window in Carlisle's study and just watch him read and retain knowledge while she secretly spied on him from behind a disinteresting book she spontaneously picked from a random shelf.

She would watch as his lips whispered to himself not only the word of God almighty himself but of himself as well. She would watch him write, whether it be paperwork, letters, poems, anything ; he would always have the same expression. His eyebrows would always scrunch together when he spoke quietly in concentration of his thoughts. His fingers may often, brush against his lips if he read over what he had written. Sometimes for dramatic effect , he would perch a meaningless contraption, his 'reading glasses' that were as well as unprescribed on the bridge of his nose.

The more concentrated he was, the more it would slink down to the very tip. Those were the little things she loved about him. His realism towards acting the part as a human, wanting to need glasses or have a small glass of brandy on the rocks on his desk. His faith in the Lord even though he knows he's damned from this life. His faith in every horrid and dreadful person that he comes across. So how did she end up with such a wonderful man?

The hell with it like she knew.

Esme rolled from Carlisle's chest, seizing her opportunity to grab her undergarments that hung from the small twig that attached to the strict branch she hung onto for dear life when she tumbled. With that thought she smiled and fondled the silk ribbon between her fingertips. "Why are you dressing?"

Carlisle shot up from his reclined space, grasping her undergarments in his hand.

"There is rainfall coming, I can smell it." she stated tugging her undergarments back into her possession. "We mustn't waste time if we don't want to get caught in it. Time is of the essence, we must hurry. " Clad in her white underwear, Esme fled to the picnic basket and around the tree searching for articles clothing.

"Must we get dressed now?" he grumbled catching his vest from Esme 's under throw from the behind the tree.

She peeked from behind the willow tree, "Why yes darling we must, again, time is of the essence." she threw his white button down shirt in his direction.

He caught it and slipped it on with reluctance. "Oh don't pout dear, we can play in the garden at home." Esme handed him his trousers and buttoned up his shirt swiftly.

"We'll be there in no time, do not fret." she softly kissed his pouty lips , lifting him to his feet. He grabbed her hips, circling them with his own,

"The tree will shade us from the rain, we can just pass the time there." His lips molded to her own and trailed down tender baby kisses down her collarbone. "Mmmm." Esme moaned locking her hands around his neck. Her eyes shot open,

"Oh Carlisle, stop it this instant! Oh no you don't! Here, take your trousers and put them on you sly, salacious fox.' she gigged pushing him away, "I must get dressed! Now if you will excuse me." she turned on her way to the corner of the tree to find her blossom cream sundress.

"Aha! I've found you, trying to hide from me? I think not!" Esme stepped into her dress and walked on over to Carlisle's grumpy form, her dress flowed around her legs, billowing in and out from in between them.

"Okay Doctor. Pouters, come, let's fold." she grabbed a sheet and spread it out in front of them both. Carlisle stood on the opposite of her catching the corners.

"Now together," she directed happily, they're bodies touched through the thin sheet, Carlisle gave her a chaste kiss. They went back to their places, the sheet only half the size now.

"Together again." they stepped towards each other and folded. Carlisle took her corner's as well as his own while she straightened the small wrinkles. She pulled two more corners and took the blanket from him.

"Once more." she said to herself as she brought her arms together again to finish.

"Perfect, well done team." she smiled towards Carlisle as he picked up the poetry books to the basket. "Now the other." Esme quickly folded and settled the blankets in the basket as Carlisle was straightening up his attire. The baskets stem wove around Esme's arm, enjoying her touch.

"All ready?"

Carlisle nodded, taking the basket from Esme's wrist. He turned and walked ahead of her, Esme raced ahead of him to fetch the oil lamp from the earth rock. The sky darkened just a smidge drawing in one or two clouds. The lamp swung from her fingertips, lighting the pink hue of her dress to a satin orange. Carlisle's steps neared her, her husband looked crest fallen as if the holy grail was found by his arch nemesis or something.

"Oh Carlisle darling," he looked up to meet her gaze.

"Yes love?"

She smiled at his immediate response. She sauntered over to him and her hand found it's place on his hip. Her eyes blazed in to his, her innocence if an adolescence showing through,

" Can you please, please, please ever be so kind as to giving me a piggyback ride? The ground is just torturing my injury." She pleaded, catching on to his vest pulling at the hem slightly. The beautiful pleading women in front of him asked for a piggyback ride. He was more than glad to oblige but he wanted to do it in reverse. ….and unclothed. Such ghastly thoughts he had about such an innocent favor that was asked of him from his loving wife and this is how he swallows it. But he wanted to swallow her and every juice she had within her that oozed sex. He blinked twice and cleared his throat.

"Yes, of course Esme, I can." she beamed happily, sliding down on to his crouched back. She grabbed the lamp and held it between her hands around his neck.

"Chivalry still stands in our marriage, oh what a blessing." she breathed onto his neck. She never made anything easy for him.

"Of course." he muttered.

They ventured down the hill together, the lamp squeaking and the basket bobbing against her leg. The fireflies danced throughout the flowery field, illuminating the lovers as they walked along head towards the darkened trees. The fireflies performed for them, soft ballads and spicy salsa's, all intricate and festive. Millions of them lit the field up, like tiny fireballs dancing together.

"They're so bright and happy." Esme hushed under her breath, "I wonder if they ever heal?" Carlisle's hand brushed against the ribbon bandage he made. He smiled to himself, 'Another job well done, Cullen.' The smell of rain was a breath of fresh air, as they walked. He could hear the small pattering of rain behind them hitting that very willow tree. They trudged along until they came to a hill. Esme stopped and peered over his shoulder like a curious child.

"Okay Doctor. Pouty, off we go!" she pointed down the hill ahead.

"Ribbit. Ribbit."

"Oh, your resentment is delicious darling."

Carlisle laughed all the way down hill, influencing Esme jingles to perform as well. The lightening bugs, flickered immensely following the chimes that echoed. It was a summer evening , perfect to catch fireflies. They flit and fly everywhere. Esme reached out her hand to grab one, soon she had five and then six. One escaped and then she caught two more. She held them close in her hand.

"Carlisle! I caught so many! See!" Esme showed him her hand giddily and brought them to her face with curiosity.

"Lightening bugs. So small, your light. It takes the glow of many to crucify the this night with your flickering. What wisdom do you know about flying and glowing? I ponder what can you speak of regions far beyond your realm? Fireflies help me listen to the night tonight. The summer air is swirling for your whisper in the summer heat." she cooed stroking one of it's wings gently. "Pretty, pretty lightening bugs."

But if they were to look behind them, passed the glowing mini- lanterns as they floated, they would see the blossoming of a Weeping Willow Tree.

**_oOo_**

The Weeping Willow Tree welcomed the morning invigorate

Now it wants to be found.

The new invigoration from laughter and fun set it's weeping days free!

The ephemeral blossoms, sugar coat themselves in beauty. Frolicking across the way. Their smell wafting in and out of the forest trees in to hollows and dens. Lifting up spirits and eternal freedom to being whom you may want to be. No more weeping, just singing in the breeze. No more howling in pain through the tremulous winds, just cooing everyone awake. The sun fans you with adoration. You are a sakura now. Your grief and misery fail to seize an exorcism on you, your one with god. He let you blossom. He let you thrive. Not one more tear out of you! He would command the thunder clear in his voice, the recognition clear in your branches. Pink and brown, pink and white, pink and grey. All those colors representing your sacredness. You're a sacred now, those who believe, come one, come all. No lolly-gagging here! Bring your spirits in your hands for they shall eternally have a place to weep tears of joy.

The widowed limb will be out and away from your view. The squishy dirt would dry, your feet can do nothing but feel the earthy fibers at the bottom of your heels. Now if you were to look up at the North star to assist you for guidance, so be it. The exotic lilac garland will lay next to an earth stone, keeping it company. Drop you lamp there for when you return it shall remain occupied in that area. No need to retrace your steps,. You know by heart. The smell, the feeling will pull you like a gravitational grapple.

The Sakura Blossom Tree welcomed and embraced the morning.

* * *

><p><em>I hope you have enjoyed this, it's only a stray beginning. Please review or comment if you like. If you have any questions, PM me or e-mail and so on and so 'forth. :)(:<em>


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